Natasha's Baby
by Rosawyn
Summary: Tony is surprised to see Pepper with a baby. And maybe that's one of the scariest things he's ever seen. But she looks so happy, and he would do almost anything to keep her happy.


o0o

**Natasha's Baby**

Tony was in the hallway when something rather unexpected caught his eye: Pepper was standing in her office, rocking slightly from side to side, looking down at—Pepper had a _baby_ in her arms. Huh.

Leaning against the door-frame, Tony raised an eyebrow. "I seem to have missed something important," he said, nodding his head toward the baby who—miraculously?—at the moment was blissfully quiet and not throwing up or doing any of the other gross things babies tended to do.

"Hmm?" Pepper looked up. "Oh, hi, Tony. Sorry; I didn't see you there." Well, of course not. She was clearly distracted. Was still distracted, as her gaze drifted back down to the baby who made some sort of soft grunting sound—probably objecting to Tony having thirty-two percent of Pepper's attention for point three seconds.

Tony twisted his lips thoughtfully, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I didn't know you had one of those."

"What? A baby?" Glancing at him, Pepper grinned, but there was so much softness in her eyes—like she was thinking about kittens or puppies or something actually cute and not entirely terrifying. "She's Natasha's."

"I see." Tony's brow furrowed. "Well, that explains everything, I guess—except how you managed to have Romanoff's baby without me ever noticing you were pregnant."

Rolling her eyes, Pepper shifted the baby's position in her arms so that Tony could see more of her weird little baby face and so the baby could glare at him. "_Natasha_ had her three months ago. Her name is Jo."

The baby had red hair. Not nearly so dark as Romanoff's when she'd been spying on Tony and not so bright as when they'd fought the Chitauri, but who knew what colour Romanoff's hair was _naturally_, anyway? Still, even the hair colour—a sort of dull vaguely brownish red—fit, because Pepper herself had red hair, and Tony knew _that_ was natural. Tony managed to keep his smirk mostly to himself.

But the thought of Romanoff pregnant was possibly one of the most unsettlingly bizarre images Tony's brain had ever conjured. He shook his head. "So Romanoff just dropped the kid off on you and demanded you take some responsibility? Because I'm sure I could find you a pretty decent lawyer..."

Pepper made a soft, exasperated sound, turning to walk toward her desk. "I'm taking care Jo for a while because Natasha asked me to." Bending down, she pulled the strap of a black cloth bag over her shoulder then stood straight again. "There's no illicit love affair, and I don't need a lawyer."

Tony snorted. "You have her baby, Pepper; I don't really need any more evidence of an affair than that."

Pepper levelled a look at him that wasn't quite a glare but was getting close. "You can make up whatever stories you like in your own head if it makes you happy, Tony, but I suggest you considering asking Bruce about what is generally required for conceiving a child; you might find it quite enlightening." Adjusting the baby once again in her arms, she turned towards the door. "Now I need to..." She sighed. "I'm sure you don't particularly care what I need to do, so I'll just go."

Pepper swept past him out of the room, and Tony rubbed a hand over his goatee as he watched her walk away. Even in her neat tailored suit and sharp little heels, Pepper looked...well, a little too _natural_ with a baby in her arms. Thank chance and whatever else that it was Romanoff's kid and not _Tony's_, though.

o0o

'For a while' apparently meant several days at least. Even when he wasn't neck-deep in some project in the lab and forgetting to eat or sleep or shower, Tony hardly saw Pepper, and not at all unless she had Jo with her, strapped to her chest with an odd contraption made from black cloth. Even though the contraption held the baby for her, Pepper still nearly always had one hand on the baby as if maybe she didn't quite trust the fabric's strength.

"Do you need some time off or something?" Tony tried. He was leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of black coffee.

But Pepper shook her head as she drank her own cup of tea, Jo snuggled against her and peeking out at the kitchen with wide blue-green eyes. "If I need time," Pepper said, "I'll take it. So far, I'm handling things fine."

And as far as Tony could tell, she was. Sometimes Bruce or Hill or Rhodey would help out with the baby, but for the most part Pepper was 'handling' being a full-time CEO and a full-time caregiver to an infant as if it wasn't even hard. It made Tony's head hurt just to think about it. He couldn't even take care of himself most days, and here Pepper was, keeping a helpless mini-human not only _alive_ but healthy and content all while running a company he himself had nearly run into the ground.

Hell yes, it was a bit intimidating! Tony was reasonably sure _Thor_ would be intimidated, were he around to see it.

Pepper would Skype with clients while rocking Jo to sleep or feeding her a bottle of...whatever it was Jo drank. Some sort of milk, no doubt. It was frozen, and Pepper would thaw it out in a container of hot water before feeding the baby.

"Of course it's milk." Bruce laughed, shaking his head as he leaned his forearms on the kitchen island next to Tony. "Humans are mammals, after all."

Pepper was singing softly to Jo, rocking her gently as she waited for the frozen milk to thaw. Jo was chewing on her fist and making a decidedly grumpy face at Pepper, no doubt unhappy with the speed of service in this place.

"Okay," Tony said, because of course humans were mammals, but... "Where does she get it?" Because obviously Pepper wasn't making the milk herself. "Does she buy it?"

Bruce shook his head. "It's actually illegal to buy or sell human milk." And that didn't make any sense really, but then most laws were stupid. "Natasha left the milk."

So it was _Romanoff__'s_ milk? The thought of her producing milk was perhaps even more disconcerting than the thought of her pregnant. Tony tried not to shudder too obviously, since Pepper was already annoyed with him. Not that Pepper was actually paying enough attention to notice what he did; she probably didn't even realize he was in the room.

"I think my girlfriend left me for a baby," Tony said quietly.

Bruce offered him a sympathetic smile. "That's a pretty common feeling, actually—um, from what I understand." Yeah, because Bruce wasn't 'that kind' of doctor, but he'd offer bits of 'that kind' of wisdom from time to time. It was arbitrary and a little infuriating. But just a little.

"All I'm saying," Tony commented, voice low, "is I would have preferred if she'd left me for the hot Russian assassin."

Bruce shook his head, shoulders hitching with silent laughter, but his expression grew serious as he turned to regard Tony. "You'd really never want kids of your own, would you?"

"God, no." Tony didn't bother trying to suppress that shudder.

Expression kind, Bruce clapped Tony on the back and walked away.

And Tony _knew_ it was unfair. He could tell how much Pepper loved Natasha's baby, and he really wasn't the best person to judge, but it was just obvious that Pepper was good at this: at taking care of a baby. She would be—he didn't want to put it into words, but they stubbornly coalesced in his head anyway—a good mom. Probably a _great_ mom.

The marble countertop was cold under his hands. His head hurt. And he felt sick to his stomach.

o0o

"I would hire the best nannies in the world," Tony said from where he sat on the bed as Pepper walked into their room that evening. She was barefoot but still in her suit, strands of hair starting to escape her ponytail—and for once, she had the decency to look a bit tired. "Like, the kind who have all sorts of enriching skills—second languages, all that."

Turning a confused gaze on Tony, Pepper shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair.

"And the best toys," Tony continued. "A whole playroom full, floor to ceiling—or more than one. Best on the planet, best anyone's ever seen. They'd have to do articles on it to put in those parenting magazines and make all the other parents jealous."

Pepper sat down on the edge of the bed, undoing her ponytail and running a brush through her hair. "What—what are you talking about?"

Tony bit his lip. He knew he wasn't good at this, but _damn_ it. Pepper was important. What she _wanted_ was important. "If you wanted a kid, a baby, of your own."

One side of Pepper's lips turned up and she rubbed at her forehead between her brows. "Are we over the whole fantasy that Jo is really mine, then? My scandalous love-child with Natasha?"

Grinning, Tony shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever quite be over that fantasy—but I can keep it to myself." He shrugged. "Since it annoys you." For whatever reason _that_ was. His brow furrowed as he turned towards her. "What time do you need to get up to feed her next?"

Pepper shook her head as she unbuttoned her blouse. "I don't; Maria's taking the two am feeding." She offered him a wan smile. "I get a full eight hours of sleep tonight—or I would, if I went to sleep right this minute."

Leaning back against the headboard, Tony let out a breath. "Good; that's good. Sleep is important...for you. And your health." Wasn't that something Bruce kept saying? Every time Tony spent forty-eight hours in the lab?

"Tony." Sliding closer, Pepper took his hand. "I know you don't want children. You're sweet to offer, but I wouldn't put you through that."

"But _you_ want children," Tony protested.

Pepper tilted her head to one side. "I suppose it would be nice to have a child who was entirely toilet trained and capable of feeding herself."

And Tony had to admit that did sound like the best—or at least, least _bad_—sort of child. He put his arm around Pepper, and she relaxed against his side. "If it's something you do want, though, we need to talk about it—I mean—" He raised an eyebrow, inclining his head at her. "That's what couples are supposed to do, right? Talk about these things?"

Pepper rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. "I suppose. I'm sorry; I'm really too tired to think about it much right now."

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head—her hair smelled like the flowers and honey in her shampoo. "I'm just letting you know that it's something I could do. If you wanted. Maybe we could even...adopt? If that works better for you. Like, an—um—how old are kids when they're housebroken and all that, anyway?"

Pepper laughed softly, nudging him with her shoulder. "It's called 'toilet trained' for humans, and usually by the time they're three, if not before."

Tony raised one eyebrow. "They can talk and stuff at three too?"

"Usually." Pepper smiled, resting her forehead against the side of his neck.

Tony twisted his lips thoughtfully. That wouldn't be so bad, really, if the kid could say, 'Mom, I'm hungry,' or, 'Dad, I need you to get me that I thing I can't reach,' rather than just screaming. "Hey," he admonished, giving her shoulder a bit of a squeeze. "You need to finish getting changed—unless you plan to sleep in your bra."

"Right." With an unhappy groan, Pepper pushed herself up again and continued getting ready for bed.

Tony enjoyed the show. Hey, he was allowed. When Pepper joined him in the bed again wearing her nightgown—it was pretty, blue satin trimmed with embroidered flowers—he let her get settled and comfortable then asked, "So who is Jo's father, anyway?"

Pepper shrugged. "I didn't ask."

"Barton," Tony said decisively. "I bet it's Barton. Or Rogers..." He turned his head, arching an eyebrow at her. "Do you think it's Rogers?"

Pepper blew out a breath that tickled the skin on his chest. "I didn't _ask_."

"You said that," Tony pointed out, "but you have to have a theory." He made a face. "No way it's Bruce."

Pepper shook her head, laughing. "It's not Bruce."

"And it's clearly not Fury." Genetics could be funny, but chances just _were_. Jo was nearly as pale as Pepper.

Pepper shook her head again. "Clearly not."

"So..." Tony prompted, "who do you think?"

Pepper sighed. "I suppose if I had to pick someone—out of people we already know—I'd say Barton."

"Ha!" Tony grinned. That was his first guess too. Rogers would probably need to be married before he ever had sex with anyone. And if it was his kid, he'd be taking care of her, not off doing whatever he was doing with his new best friend, the guy with the metal wings. Besides, Barton was so obviously in love with Romanoff it was painful. And also kind of funny. Maybe a tiny bit sweet, cute. Something like that. All the stuff that Romanoff at least pretended to find annoying as hell. Tony pulled Pepper closer against his side. "Whoever it is, they're not doing as good a job as _you_ are."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "It's not a competition, Tony."

"But if it was," Tony shot back, "you'd be winning. Gold metal, blue ribbon, world cup trophy, all that."

"Um, thanks, I guess." Pepper's brow furrowed slightly. "It's not like I'm doing it alone."

"And you shouldn't have to." Hell, no one should. That kind of thing was _hard_, no matter how easy Pepper usually made it look. "But you do, like, ninety-five percent of it, and that's probably more than most people, because as I understand it, it's generally meant to be a two-person job. And you still work full-time too." It was no wonder she was exhausted. "I'm just trying to say I'm proud of you. And kind of in awe. Maybe a whole lot."

"Thanks." Pepper relaxed against him, arm wrapping across his chest. "That means a lot." She fell asleep soon after that, but Tony stayed awake for a while longer, thinking.

Maybe...maybe if Pepper really did want kids, Tony could do a bit better than five percent himself—that's pretty much all his own father had done: five percent. Not that Tony truly blamed him, because, ugh, _kids_, right? But maybe Tony himself could manage...twelve percent. And it's not like Pepper would have to do the rest—Tony could hire a nanny. Hell, Tony could hire a hundred nannies. And a full-time cook, a butler, an army of PA's, a professional stylist and a professional shopper. Pepper could have a small country's population worth of staff just standing at the ready to do any tiny detail that she didn't happen to feel like doing at any given moment.

And maybe Tony himself could even manage fifteen percent.

o0o

**So this is my first Tony/Pepper fic - how'd I do?**

o0o


End file.
